Race/Related: Getting Personal

A black man covering race; Jay-Z reflects; and praise for 'Coco' View in [Browser]( | Add nytdirect@nytimes.com to your address book. [The New York Times]( [The New York Times]( Sunday, December 3, 2017 [Join Race/Related »]( [‘Nothing Against You’]( [The Baluyut family -- Tierra, A.J. and their two-month-old Noah -- at the Joy of Eating diner in Vallejo, Calif.]( The Baluyut family -- Tierra, A.J. and their two-month-old Noah -- at the Joy of Eating diner in Vallejo, Calif. Jim Wilson/The New York Times For a Black Man Covering Race, the Story Is Never Far From Home [By John Eligon]( VALLEJO, Calif. — The question, I thought, was harmless enough. “Tell me how being in such a diverse community has influenced you in your life,” I asked Fred Hatfield as we sat at the counter of a diner here. By the time I met Mr. Hatfield, who is 60 and white, I had already asked numerous Vallejo residents the same question, for [this story that I wrote](. Vallejo is one of the most demographically diverse cities in the United States, and as a reporter covering race for The New York Times I wondered whether there was more harmony and understanding here than elsewhere in the country. Most of the answers I got were the ones you might expect. Diversity introduced residents to new foods, for instance; it allowed them to look past the stereotypes they see on television and get to know people as they are. But I got a dimmer view from Mr. Hatfield. He said that most of the “gangbangers” in Vallejo were people of color, and he thought that I, a black man, was up to no good when he first saw me. “There’s a lot of negativity involved with it, I’ll tell you right now,” Mr. Hatfield said of Vallejo’s diversity as he tucked into a $7.59 breakfast special of eggs over easy, toast, bacon and potatoes with chives. Mr. Hatfield’s disparaging remarks about minorities and his quickness to stereotype me underscored a truth about covering race in America as a black man: The story is never far from home. That usually means white people are extra polite with me when giving their thoughts about black people, while black people tend toward frankness when we discuss race. Mr. Hatfield, to be clear, was very much an exception in Vallejo in terms of his blunt bias. But to an extreme degree, he represented a surprising paradox I found here. Diversity, it seemed, makes people feel comfortable using stereotypes and expressing biases. Making fun of how Asians speak? It’s no problem, the thinking goes, because I have Asian friends. Mr. Hatfield explained that when the Mare Island Naval Shipyard, once the beating heart of Vallejo’s economy, closed in the mid-1990s, “they encouraged Section 8 housing, and you know what that brings. And not the color of your skin; it just brings the type of people that take advantage of the situation and they deal drugs and they prostitute, that sort of thing.” He described Vallejo as having once been “a hard-working, redneck kind of a blue-collar town,” and he reiterated that race did not factor into his perceptions of the city. “As far as I’m concerned, I grew up in this town and I have a lot of friends that are all different nationalities. But bad is bad.” “Are the bad people usually a certain race?” I asked. “Not necessarily,” he said. “Mostly, what makes the trouble is the gangbangers, and in this town you got blacks, you got Mexicans and you got Asians. You got all three of them. You look around, you see the gang tags. And you’re a pretty hip cat, you know what’s up. And those are the people that cause the problems generally — in every community, not just here.” [The Johnson and Remorin families together in Vallejo, Calif.] The Johnson and Remorin families together in Vallejo, Calif. Jim Wilson/The New York Times As I pressed him further, Mr. Hatfield said he did believe most of the troublemakers in Vallejo were people of color, but he again wanted me to know that he was not a racist. “Some of my oldest and dearest friends are black guys,” he insisted. Still, he said later that growing up around a lot of nonwhite people here “gave me a negative attitude toward certain individuals and certain racial groups.” I found that most people in Vallejo interacted quite comfortably across racial lines and were accepting of one another, more so than in much of the rest of the United States. Several black people told me, for instance, that they did not feel profiled anywhere they went in town, something I certainly do not hear in most other parts of the country to which I travel. Yet some residents here openly throw around negative stereotypes of people of different races because their social circles include people of all races. They say this means that their sentiments do not come from a hateful place. Even though I am black and have dreadlocks, residents here did not shy away from honestly discussing with me racial issues that many people around the country might be uncomfortable addressing. When I was talking with a white woman one night, for instance, she caught herself before saying C.P.T., or colored people time. African-Americans sometimes use the term to joke that they lack punctuality. The woman said that her black friends use the term with her. Mr. Hatfield, however, had no problem telling me about his initial impression of me the morning we met. I had been inside the diner before it opened, talking to the owner, who is from Korea and has very diverse employees and customers. “When I looked in here and the lights were off, I’m going to tell you honestly, I saw a black man standing at the counter,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I, right away, thought something was wrong. Just because — nothing against you — the business isn’t open yet, you got a black man standing at the counter.” Again, he hedged, chalking up his feelings not to race, but to a general pessimism about life. His wife of 20 years left him, taking their million-dollar house on a hill, he said. Wearing a red T-shirt, white pants and a black cap splotched with paint, he said he made a meager living as a painter, had no retirement savings and owed the government a lot of money. But, he proudly declared, he has never relied on public assistance. “I’m not going to say, ‘Oh, I want government money,’” he said. “I ain’t taking it. I’ve never been on unemployment. Ever.” I thanked Mr. Hatfield for his time and honesty. Then, as I turned to walk away, he had a question for me. “Hey,” he asked, “can you buy my meal for me?” Read Mr. Eligon's story from Vallejo:  “[Does Race Matter in America’s Most Diverse ZIP Codes]( ADVERTISEMENT ADVERTISEMENT [Jay-Z on Rap, Marriage and Being a Black Man in Trump’s America]( [Jay-Z spoke recently with The Times’s executive editor in Manhattan.]( Jay-Z spoke recently with The Times’s executive editor in Manhattan. Nick Bentgen By [Dean Baquet]( My conversation with Jay-Z began with O.J. When I was a kid growing up in black New Orleans in the 1960s, O.J. Simpson was a god. We imitated his moves, his swagger. We didn’t want to just play like him. We wanted to be him, gorgeous and running in the California sun. We practiced his juking moves in the mirror, our hands too small to hold the ball loosely, the way he did. We even wanted to go to U.S.C., where he led the nation in rushing two years in a row. We were angry when he lost the Heisman Trophy to the white, All-American, clean-cut U.C.L.A. quarterback Gary Beban, known as “The Great One.” We were triumphant when he won it the next year. But O.J. was not a perfect hero for young black boys, even though he launched himself from poverty in San Francisco to superstardom. He was racially ambivalent. At a time when other athletes were starting to make their blackness a cause, he was trying to make his a footnote. So when I was invited to interview Jay-Z, I wanted to talk about his song “The Story of O.J.,” from his most recent album, “4:44,” in which he quotes the legendary, maybe apocryphal, Simpson line “I’m not black, I’m O.J.” I was less engaged by the rapper’s marital troubles or his infamous, caught-on-video 2014 elevator dust-up with his sister-in-law. But I did want to try to understand how, with an $88 million Bel Air mansion a freeway ride from neighborhoods where black people endure with so little, Jay-Z holds onto his younger self — a black man who grew up in the ’70s in the Marcy projects of Brooklyn. It seemed from his new body of work that examining this high-wire act of straddling two places had been stirring more deeply within him — much the way it stirs in me, a Southern black man who grew up revering O.J. and whose own success is infinitely greater than anyone in my early life would have imagined for me. What is it about the story of O.J. Simpson that moved us both? O.J. must have locked down part of himself when he presented himself as the noncontroversial star who never talked about race, the perfect foil for his fellow football player, Cleveland Browns running back Jim Brown, who seemed more threatening, angry. I had to wonder if the pressure of that denial caused him to explode decades later. All of this was on my mind when I met with Jay-Z for two hours in an executive office at The Times this past September. Besides O.J. and racial identity, we talked about his mother’s sexuality, and how he could possibly raise socially aware children who shuttled between mansions: After years of rapping about growing up in the ‘hood, he has produced an album that sounds like a middle-aged black man’s deeply introspective therapy session put to music. [[Read and watch]( our executive editor’s full interview with Jay-Z.] [‘Coco’ Was the Story of My Life]( [Miguel from “Coco,” surrounded by his family in the Land of the Dead.]( Miguel from “Coco,” surrounded by his family in the Land of the Dead. Disney/Pixar By [Maira Garcia]( The pan dulce. The gingham apron. The homages to [Jorge Negrete]( and [Pedro Infante](. The infamous [chancla](. Nods to Mexican life and culture in Pixar’s “[Coco]( did not go unnoticed by many audiences, which made the film the [top draw at the box office]( on Thanksgiving weekend. The makers of the film, which centers on a boy named Miguel who tries to reconnect with his family’s musical roots on Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), [went to great lengths]( to avoid clichés and stereotypes. Portrayals of Mexican families — animated or not — by Hollywood can often fail to capture details and nuance in speech, mannerisms, customs or even appearance. Many Americans of Mexican descent, like myself, were overcome with emotion upon seeing a depiction of a family and household that closely resembles their own. Miguel’s great-grandmother, Coco, with her dark skin, deep-set wrinkles and braids, bore a striking resemblance to my grandmother. Strict but doting Abuelita, who can dole out a lashing with a flip-flop one minute and then feed you tamales the next, was not unlike my own mother. And the house full of hermanos, tias, tios and primos is something that many Latino families share. [Readers shared their reactions to the film [here]( We want to hear from you. We’d love your feedback on this newsletter. Please email thoughts and suggestions to [racerelated@nytimes.com](mailto:racerelated@nytimes.com?subject=Newsletter%20Feedback). Want more Race/Related? Follow us on Instagram, where we continue the conversation about race through stunning visuals. [Instagram]( [INSTAGRAM]( FOLLOW RACE/RELATED [Instagram] [racerelated]( Get more [NYTimes.com newsletters »]( | Get unlimited access to NYTimes.com and our NYTimes apps. [Subscribe »]( ABOUT THIS EMAIL You received this message because you signed up for NYTimes.com's Race/Related newsletter. [Unsubscribe]( | [Manage Subscriptions]( | [Change Your Email]( | [Privacy Policy]( | [Contact]( | [Advertise]( Copyright 2017 The New York Times Company 620 Eighth Avenue New York, NY 10018